Hospital Days
by miss-stupid-sunshine
Summary: Crappy one shot, just because I was feeling down. Peter's in a coma basically.


Steve stared at the wall. It was a plain, boring wall, and he didn't know why he was staring at the wall. Truth be told, if he stared anywhere else he knew he'd break down crying. With everybody sobbing around him, he'd have to been strong. He was always the strong one, and right now he was sick of it.

Peter's body was still and lifeless, like it was frozen in time, though he was breathing peacefully. If Steve tried really hard, he could just pretend he was sleeping. But Peter wasn't sleeping. People don't sleep for three months at a time. People don't go to sleep and people wonder if they're ever going to wake up. People don't go to sleep and need life support. But, Steve could try his hardest to pretend he was sleeping.

If you didn't know the truth, it would be easy to think he was just sleeping. Even as a child, he never moved in his sleep, or spoke or snored, he just lay there. That was, except, when he had nightmares. And growing up with superhero parents, they happened a lot. Steve knew exactly what that felt like, every time Tony went away on a mission, not knowing if he was gonna make it home. But for Peter, he had double that problem, because Steve and Tony usually went together.

Steve directly remembered the night Peter had confided in them. It had been raining all night and the air was muffled, like it need a storm. Tony was tangled in Steve's arms and was sleeping, but Steve was still awake. He was just listening to the rain, patter down the windows, when he heard little feet moving down the corridor. They paused outside the couple's room.

"Peter?" Steve had called out, but softly, as not to wake Tony.

Peter appeared round the door way, clutching his blanket. "I - I had a bad dream." He managed to say. A crash of thunder sounded and Peter ran over to Steve and Tony - waking his dad up in the process. The seven year old scrambled onto the bed and sat at the edge, as both his parents sat up.

"Pete?" Tony asked, confused. "What's wrong?" Tony asked, rubbing his eyes.

Then Peter explained. He explained how worried he was every single time his dads went away, how it would consume his every thought about if they were coming home. He had nightmares about it, even though his parents were safely in the room next to his.

Steve and Tony weren't dumb, they had tried to hide what they did from Peter. Time after time, they would come home battered and bruised, and their son wanted to know why. They had told him who they really were, and at first Peter had thought it was cool. Till Tony got put into hospital. The two of them had spent the night worrying if he was going to be okay. Now, the positions were reversed.

One by one, everybody left the room. The doctor had just told them that Peter's condition had worsened and that they needed to decide what to do. Everyone had dispersed, until Steve was alone. That's when he broke.

Nobody was here right now for Steve to be strong for. He'd been in this position far too many times for it to be fair, a loved one, dying, with nothing he could do about it. He was supposed to be Captain America, here to defeat all evil and save the day. But what could he do now?

He allowed himself to cry, silent tears rolling down his face. Pressing Peter's hand to his forehead, his tears evolved into sobs. They racked through him and down his spine, his eyes scrunched up so tight it hurt. Eventually, he dropped Peter's hand, and rested his head in his arms, on the bed next to Peter.

Steve had always been a man of God, and ever since he'd been dropped into the 21st Century, occasionally, people would mock his beliefs. But right now, watching his beautiful son's life slowly fade and he was left powerless, now seemed like a better time than any other to pray. Pray for his son, pray for his strength to pull through, pray for his own and Tony's strength to help him pull through. How could something, so simple as a car crash, take away a life so easily?

When the door to Peter's room opened, Steve didn't even need to look up to know who it was. He'd learnt the sound of his husband's foot steps a long time ago.

"Steve?" Tony voice was hoarse, he'd obviously been crying too. "What are you doing?" Tony closed the door and leaned against it.

"I'm praying." His voice was gruffer than he'd meant for it to sound. He'd stopped crying a little while ago, mostly because he though he didn't have any tears left.

To Steve's surprise, Tony didn't get angry, he didn't say "Praying? What use is that gonna do for our son? For his life?" And he didn't mock him, or doubt him, he didn't say "Praying? You think that'll work?"

Instead, Tony made his way across to the other side of Peter's bed and kneeled beside his son. He closed his eyes and gently took Peter's hand. "Let's give it a try then." Tony inhaled. He was ready to try anything now.

They didn't know how long the stayed like that, but it seemed like forever. Somehow, in the time they did stay like that, Tony's hand found Steve's and held it tightly.

Soon enough, the door opened again, and a doctor in a white lab coat came in. "Hello sirs. We have some news." He said grimly. Tony got up and walked round to Steve, who put his arms round him, like a barrier, to block out everything.

The next few words, are ones heard often on hospital shows, or movies, but you never fully understand how much the can say in just a few simple words. They can break you and your whole life, your love for someone or even just your ability to feel somewhat sane.

"I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do."


End file.
